


With A View

by sister_coyote



Category: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Elevator Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot, Public Sex, Turkfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-27
Updated: 2006-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_coyote/pseuds/sister_coyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rufus won't let himself lose, but it's much less clear which one of them is really getting his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With A View

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dark_squall](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dark_squall).



The elevator ground to a halt with a sudden squeal. The lights dropped off, and then came up again, but dimmer: not the soft ring of sculptural lighting from the floor, but smaller, harder blue-white emergency lights.

"Power's down," Reno said. Sure enough, each window in the Tower that Rufus could see was dark, save those which glowed with faint emergency lighting. The emergency lights turned Reno's skin a luminous alien shade. "Generator's'll be up in a few minutes."

Rufus made a noncommittal noise and turned to look out the glass wall, over the city. Darkness consumed the tower, but most of the city still had power, it seemed: beyond a dark swath skirting his building, the city glittered like a sea. He only had a moment to enjoy it before he saw Reno's reflection in the glass, coming up fast behind him. So he was ready when Reno's hand closed on his shoulder, and turned a little faster than Reno would have intended, so that his momentum propelled him into Reno and them both backwards, and their mouths met in a clash that was all teeth, hard and sharp. Reno's laugh turned into a moan, or perhaps his moan turned into a laugh; it didn't matter. His back hit the glass with a muffled thump.

"Hey." Reno dragged his mouth away, but not far, so that his breath—warm and faintly smelling of tobacco—touched Rufus' lips. "I was gonna—"

"I know." Rufus bit at the sharp line of his jaw, and felt a warm surge of satisfaction when Reno tipped his head back and made a pleased sound before he remembered to fight.

"—yeah, fuck you," Reno said, and then neatly anticipated Rufus' next words, his eyes slitted bright, and said, "or fuck me, or whatever the hell—"

"The latter," Rufus said. His hands slid under Reno's jacket, working it off his shoulders. "The power won't stay down forever."

"You're right," Reno said. "It won't."

Rufus couldn't track what happened next, because Reno somehow went from being completely pinned against the wall to _not_, very fast, without warning. So fast, in fact, that Rufus only had time for a bemused thought that Turk training was clearly effective before his back slammed against the wall. He opened his mouth—to protest or make a scathing remark, he hadn't decided—and Reno's lips sealed over his before he could get any words out. Reno didn't bite—his kiss was deep and strong and wet, his tongue pressing deep, aided by the fact that Rufus' mouth had been open and ready for it. As always he tasted like cigarettes, and as always Rufus found himself surprised by how little that displeased him.

Reno was trying to pin his arms and get his greatcoat off at the same time, which was a tactical error because it put him just enough off balance that Rufus could dig his hands into Reno's shirt and spin him around again. This time, pinned, Reno didn't fight but said, "C'mon, boss, I know for a fact you don't dislike getting fucked that much. I've heard you moan for it, remember?"

"You're right." Rufus knew that he had an unfair advantage—many layers of clothes securely fastened, where Reno only had jacket and shirt and neither of those properly buttoned—and he took full advantage of that. "But you started this as a fight, and you know perfectly well that I don't lose."

"You also talk too damn much," Reno said. "And you wear too many clothes, fuck." He didn't even try to get the coat off this time, just attacked the vest, the buttons of his shirts, until Rufus' clothes hung open and Reno slid his hands along his skin. Rufus swallowed hard on a hungry moan, but not quite hard enough, and Reno's smug smile at the sound made his blood burn in his veins.

"You've never protested before." They were almost but not quite getting in one another's way in their haste to get pants open and off.

"I don't fight hard when I'm getting something I fucking want," Reno said, "and that's the difference between you and me." He was naked, leaning back against the glass, his head tilted back to expose the line of his throat, the sweep of his jaw, the point of his chin. "Right now I just want to get off. My cock up your ass or yours up mine, don't matter _that_ much to me." He was looking down over his cheekbones, his eyes almost closed, glittering.

Rufus heard his breath catch and hated the way that revealed him, and hated more the way it made Reno smirk more. Reno didn't _understand_. Reno could lose, because Rude—and also Tseng and even Elena, all of them—would back him up, but Rufus had to stand on his own and not fall or the circling sharks would move in. He'd known that since he was twelve, that no one—not even his father—would step in and save him if he showed weakness. If anyone smelled blood in the water, it was all over.

"Good thing you don't care," he said, fishing a packet of lube out of his pocket. Reno's laugh caught and turned halfway into an anticipatory moan.

"Ought to get you to leave your jacket on more often," Reno said as Rufus slid two slick fingers into him. His breath hitched and he rolled his head back, the tail of his hair falling over his shoulder, down across his narrow chest. "It's fucking hot."

"That's the first time you've ever said anything nice about my clothes." He was having a hell of a time keeping his voice even as Reno opened up nice and easy around his fingers, hot as anything. And tight. "Or even anything not profane."

"Well, they're not very—nng, that's good—convenient."

"Convenience isn't the point of everything," he said.

Reno shook his head a little bit, but what he said was, "Better hurry up, the power's gonna come back any minute." He hooked one leg around Rufus' hip—they were almost of a height, but Reno was both thinner and more flexible, which meant that it might actually work like this. That, and the solidity of the glass at his back.

He pressed into Reno—tight heat and Reno making a shameless little needy noise, and hurrying wasn't going to be a problem. "Come on," Reno said as soon as he caught his breath, "come on, fuck me, you wanted it like this, you'd better—fucking—make the most of it."

Rufus didn't waste breath responding, but took him at his word: hard fast thrusts, pinning Reno up against the cool glass. One of his hands pressed flat to the window, the other tight on Reno's shoulder for balance. He could feel Reno's hair shifting, brushing over the back of his hand with each thrust as Reno arched and moaned, unrepentantly loud. "Come on, come on, that's—ahhh," Reno said, his head tipped back; his skin looked even whiter than usual in the glare of the emergency lights. The expanse of pale skin was an irresistible temptation. Rufus sank his teeth into the juncture of throat and shoulder.

"Good, that's good, come on, give it to me, just like that," Reno said, his eyes closed, as if he wasn't even aware he was talking. The marks on his cheekbones, his slitted eyes, his half-open mouth, made him look feral, savage, almost not quite human, and that was almost unbelievably hot after day upon day of suited business associates, members of the board, without a single drop of life in them—

— and he was determined not to go before Reno did, but as pleasure built and built and burned behind his eyes he thought _you'd better hurry the hell up_ —

— and Reno obliged, his words running together and turning into a long, hoarse moan, almost a sob, as he came. And it was a close thing; Reno gasping against the glass, barely finished, when Rufus lost it. He bit his lip, hard, but couldn't entirely hold back his choked moan.

Reno dropped his foot to the floor, supporting his own weight, but Rufus didn't let go of him for a long moment as he struggled to regain equilibrium. "That was . . . certainly diverting," he finally said.

"Yeah," Reno said, breathing hard, the back of his head pressed against the glass and his eyes closed. He looked fucking _fantastic_, flushed, the long tail of his hair clinging to his sweaty skin, his lips still parted. After a moment, though, his mouth twisted into a smirk again. "See, the thing I don't think you get, Mister President, is that I don't actually give a fuck who 'wins.' Hell, maybe I wanted to wind up where I wound up, and I fought you on it to make sure I'd get my way. 'Cause you're perverse, but you're _reliably_ perverse."

"And maybe I provoked you into fighting me, because I wanted to make sure I'd get what I wanted," Rufus said, fastening his vest with hands that shook only slightly.

"And maybe you're full of shit," Reno said. He smirked. "Sir."

The power came back up with a long drawn-out whine. Rufus smiled. "Maybe I am," he said. "But you don't know which it is."

Reno shrugged his shirt back on—rumpled, but that was hardly telling of anything. "Keeps things interesting, yeah?"


End file.
